


Spilled coffee and words, you make a mess of me

by winterscaptsam



Series: Sambucky bingo 2019 [3]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sambucky Bingo 2019, Soft Bucky Barnes, Soft Sam Wilson, fluff and even more fluff, meet cute, sbbingo1, spilled coffee and feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 13:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21137384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterscaptsam/pseuds/winterscaptsam
Summary: Bucky could listen to Sam say his name on repeat, could listen to his voice like lullabies, his words would be written in the stars and he’d fall asleep listening, waiting.





	Spilled coffee and words, you make a mess of me

Bucky hates Mondays. No, you don’t understand, he despises it with every inch of his soul. Steve said he’s being childish when he purposely turned off the date on his phone, when he crossed out all the Mondays on the calendar and especially the childish fit that came along after -one of the most annoying questions- “what day is it today?” 

This particular  _ Monday  _ was presentation day. And yes, where being promoted from creative designer to creative director in Stark’s firm of Creative Marketing, alongside his best buddy Steve did have its perks; presentations stayed a bore. 

“I’ll do all the talking, you just point out the objectives and repeat what I say in a...Bucky type way!” Steve’s cheerful yet failed attempt at being persuasive to fix Bucky’s mood up before the presentation had started. 

“Bucky type way?” His face stays deadpan, staring at Steve with an eyebrow raised up. 

“Oh, you know what I mean. Look, Buck. I worked really hard for this promotion and-“

“By fucking the boss?” 

Steve’s turn to switch to a less expressive face.

“I’m kidding, c’mon...it was a joke,” Bucky nudges Steve’s shoulder, “I mean, I’m sure Tony was very pleased at how  _ hard _ you worked,” 

“BU-“ 

Just in the nick of time before a not so great attempt at being angry Steve Rogers could push his best friend away, a brunette lady walks towards the pair in front of the head office. 

“Steve Rogers? Mr Stark will see you now,” she smiles at them before returning back to her desk. 

Bucky thinks it would be a great time to start his antics again, “y’know…” a smirk playing on his lips, “that sounds an awful lot like a scene from fifty-“

The door slams before he could finish his words, shuffling back his laughter and collecting up all his paperwork, only an hour or so before the presentation starts. Coffee shop across the road would be a great place to kill time, he’d flirt a little with the barista, get extra cream and maybe a small fudge on the side, of no extra charge because he’s just that good at flirting. 

He’s got to admit, while Mondays and presentations were definitely not his forte, New York has got its way of making Mondays not feel so... _ Monday.  _ The streets busy, filled with chatter or laughter, sometimes the odd conversations there and now, the smell of burning coffee and car engines, maybe his luck if someone who decided to put extra cologne stood next to him as they waited to cross, Celine Dion blasting through his earphones, maybe today wasn’t so ba-

“Shit!” 

Bumping into another body, Bucky drops all his papers the floors as the man in front of him drops his drink, coffee soaked his shirt and Bucky’s papers. 

_ This is why he hates Mondays. They’re cursed.  _

The strangers voice growing louder, “fuckin’ told Sharon I shouldn’t wear white, ain’t a damn good thing about wearing a white shirt on your first- oh, oh my god, I am so sorry about your papers,”

Bucky. Being the dumbass he is, still has his headphones in, minding his business, slowly as ever packing his papers back up not even glancing up at the man whose now crouching down to help him collect all his coffee stained paperwork. 

“Look man, I’m sorry about your...” Bucky finally glances up, the man holding up a soggy brown turned paper with its wet edges falling off, face a somewhat state of confusion “papers...if you still want to call them that,” 

Bucky, open mouthed as he just stares at the man in front of him. Brown eyes practically descending into his soul, sweet enough he could feel his mouth already watering, clear brown skin hit by a ray of sunlight only making him appear angel like, God, he was beautiful. 

“I’m- no, it’s fine...your shirt-“

“Is washable. It’s your papers that-“

“Can print them again.” Although Steve would kill him because this is their fifth copy today. 

Bucky hears a small sigh coming from him, looks to see him biting down his bottom lip as he looks down at the soaked papers, eyes a shade of guilt he could see so clearly. 

“Really, it’s fine.” Bucky reassures him, “not that big of a deal,”

Both getting up, Bucky stuffs the soaked papers in his bag as Sam just shakes his arms a little, stretches his shirt from the coffee wet residue that stuck to him. 

The man offers a small smile, “again, I’m really sorry,”

“No worries. I’m the clutz,” 

“Me too,” he smiles back and if Bucky thought he was beautiful before well add on a smile that stretched out, small dimples on either side with a sweet gap toothed grin, Bucky thinks this is perfection at its finest. 

And as he’s too busy admiring the angel like man in front of him, he completely forgets that he has a presentation and a stack of papers to print again in one of the busiest buildings. 

“I should…” the man starts off, points in front of him as if to motion he’s leave. 

“Uh, yeah.” 

“Sorry, again. Monday’s right?” He shuffles a small laugh before making his way back into the busy street. 

Bucky doesn’t believe in fate. So, no he isn’t going to look back in hopes the man is too, not because it’s a cheesy romantic gesture that only works in movies but also because he literally knows nothing about this man other than his need to apologize and heavenly chocolate melted eyes. 

That for some reason he just can’t get out of his mind.

Three Monday’s pass by before he sees the memorable stranger again. Not that he’d been searching, or counting, just that- okay, the thing is Bucky’s met so many people over the years, that’s what working under Tony Stark will do to you, a new face everyday, 

Although non have managed to stick in Bucky’s mind like this one. Maybe it was the comfort of his eyes, his humorless jokes to lighten up a situation, his smile already did that for him. And all of this thinking only makes Bucky want,  _ need _ to find out his name. 

“Mornin’, sweetheart.” 

There it was, the familiar voice from a memory Bucky kept replaying. Raspy edge as his rosy Harlem accent spoke the words that Bucky could imagine waking up to on lazy Sunday mornings. 

Stood a little behind the counter watching the man he recognised order his drink, it’s not his fault if his eyes trailed up and down the structure of his body, carved by angels, he could already imagine it, his eyes gazing at the party at the back; again, not his fault the man has the literal body of a Greek God, muscled arms fitted perfectly around his purple shirt, grey shorts tight against his waistline. 

To keep it simple, Bucky’s a lot thirstier than he was five minutes ago. 

It’s his turn next to order and thankfully it wasn’t his usual barista because Bucky’s got an eye to flirt with someone else today. 

“You again,” and the man is turned standing in front of him, he looks even more satisfying from the front, small beads of sweat running from his head, looks fresh off a morning run. 

“Me again,” Bucky smirks, playful and accurate to his desire. 

The man just stays staring, smiling at Bucky. It was easy to get lost in them, Bucky’s eyes. As if standing on top of Everest and you’re just surrounded by the blue beauty. Bucky wonders what magical colour would come from the ice cool blue of his own eyes and the sweet mahogany brown of his. 

“Is it ironic that I’m seeing you again in a coffee shop?” 

Bucky shrugs, “it was meant to be,” followed by a smile, he wasn’t letting him walk away this time. 

“I’m- my names’ Sam,” he leans out his free hand to shake as his other stays firm on his coffee cup. 

That was his name, simple yet beautiful like him. 

“Bucky,” he shakes his hand back, let’s their skins connect a while, soft, mesmerising as he’d imagine it to be.

Sam’s eyes desireful as they slowly fall to Bucky’s lips, “Bucky,” he repeats the name and the dimmed coffee shop lights are shining above him as his lips stayed softly parted, Bucky could listen to Sam say his name on repeat, could listen to his voice like lullabies, his words would be written in the stars and he’d fall asleep listening, waiting. 

It’s not an awkward silence, almost a needed one. To figure out their thoughts before spilled coffee turns to words spoken too soon. It feels as if the chatter and coffee beans smell around them disappears, the sunshine gleaming at their skin, small movements either of them made noticeable. 

Like the way Sam let his eyes fall away from Bucky and for a moment he felt cold, equally surprised at how this stranger has managed to make him feel such ways. Keeps a smile to himself when Sam takes his receipt out his pocket and turns to ask for a pen from the barista, scribbled his number on the back and turns back to Bucky. 

“Call me,” he says, “Monday’s aren't as miserable when you’ve got a coffee date,”  _ Jesus Christ _ , this man really is in his mind. 

“Date?” It comes out more a question than Bucky meant it which is why he notices when Sam takes a step back, scratches at the back of his neck, wondering if he’d just made a move on a stranger who was simply being kind and had gotten his signals mixed up. 

“No- I mean, you don’t gotta-“

“I’ll call you,” Bucky’s voice rushes before Sam could take back any words, “I won’t bring any papers,” he adds.

“I won’t spill anything on you,” 

_ Too soon for a sex joke, too soon for a sex jo-  _ “not yet, anyway.” 

Earning a blushing laugh from Sam who lets his hands drop by his side and duck his head, hiding an earned smile. 

“I’ll see you soon,” Sam says, his voice sounds so earnest and sweet, wonders how much sweeter they feel once they’ve touched the taste of sugar filled coffee. 

Sam waves off a smile before leaving the shop and suddenly all the noise and moving customers around him are back. 

_ “ _ See you,” the words at the tip of his tongue as everything else he wants to say. 

Bucky loves Monday’s, he has ever since he met Sam Wilson. Monday’s now contain watching the clock so he could sneak off to meet Sam during his break, Monday’s contain coffee breathed kisses and gentle good nights that continue to the following days. 

But the first time the words breathe air is close, underneath silk sheets and cotton pillows, honey tea breath because Sam reckons they’ve had enough coffee for once. It’s been two months since they’ve first met and Bucky thinks it’s about time he finally said what his heart has been holding on to for so long. 

“I love you,” he whispers, like a secret he’s only capable of telling Sam, it is. It’s a fragile sentence that he doesn’t want broken, left out to turn to dust or be eaten by the wind, he loves Sam. The way his brown eyes turn golden in the sun, the way his cheeks crinkle and gets those small lines on his forehead when he’s smiling too much, the way his hands are always soft, how fresh lemon zest smells off of him, intense but sweet in all the right ways. 

“I love you too,” Sam says, not in a whisper, in a statement, clear to hear but his voice only makes sweet precious words come to sound, smiles softly before leaning in to kiss Bucky. 

The way that makes Bucky feel like he’s on the clouds, makes him feel like God took his time when writing his love story, Sam was too good to be as simple as a prince among all the others. He was perfect, carved by angels and dipped in honey, Bucky knows it. 

It wasn’t a Monday the day that they confessed their love. But that’s the thing, when with each other, everyday feel euphoric. 

**Author's Note:**

> An apology for my last angst filled bingo, bit of sambucky fluff because why not?


End file.
